


And You Give Yourself Away

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Series: Nothing Left To Lose [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Canon Era, Cussing, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Mentions of Slavery, Takes Place In S2, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26346679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: Murphy’s different when he comes back. But then so is Finn. She can see it in the way they move through the grassy field even before she gets a good look at them. She didn’t know what she expected to hear from them about what happened while they were gone, but it certainly wasn’t what she got.And she certainly didn’t expect to find Murphy sitting outside her tent that night, late, after she’d thrown herself into a repair to keep her mind occupied after hearing the awful and disturbing story either. But that is what she got.Based on a prompt via t100 Writers For BLM
Relationships: John Murphy/Raven Reyes
Series: Nothing Left To Lose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914400
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	And You Give Yourself Away

**Author's Note:**

> I think they might be from the same Anon, but I got two similar prompts that felt like they should take place in the same alternate timeline. So consider this new story to take place directly after NOT UNLESS YOU SAY SO, and yes, I would suggest that you read that one first if you have not already done so. It will give you a better understanding of just how this relationship came to be. I have connected them as a series so just scroll up & click on "Previous Work" in the series if you need to. Once again I mess with the s2 timeline to suit my purposes. Murphy also never leaves with Jaha for the desert. 
> 
> Here's the prompt I received for this part of the story - Season twoish Murven where Murphy is casually & openly submissive to Raven (and only her). The camp is used to it but one day another clan comes to trade and the gang doesn't really know how to explain it to them. Romantic relationship please, up to M - Hope this is to your liking, Anon, and thanks for the donation to a great cause!
> 
> Series title & this story title taken from the song With or Without You by U2

* * *

Murphy’s different when he comes back. But then so is Finn. She can see it in the way they move through the grassy field even before she gets a good look at them, one of the lookouts along the wall having alerted all the inhabitants of Arkadia that there was a group of people heading towards camp from out of the treeline. As they approached, it was easy for her to tell that it was Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Finn and Murphy. 

She didn’t know what she expected to hear from them about what happened while they were gone, but it certainly _wasn’t_ what she got. 

And she certainly didn’t expect to find Murphy sitting outside her tent that night, late, after she’d thrown herself into a repair to keep her mind occupied after hearing the awful and disturbing story either. 

But that _is_ what she got. 

* * *

“Can I stay with you?”

He says it so plaintively, so painfully, his eyes on his boot as he scuffs it into the dirt; she couldn’t have turned him away even if she had been inclined to. She wasn’t though, didn’t have any intention of turning him away when she’d seen him sitting on the hard ground outside her tent as she started the slow, stiff walk towards it that night. She’d deliberately buried herself in work, trying to block out the things that Clarke and Bellamy and Octavia had told her earlier. Finn’s side of the story was absent - just like Finn himself. He’d disappeared in a hurry after coming through the camp gates. Unlike Murphy, who trailed after Raven looking like he was both desperate to talk to her and frightened of it at the same time. 

They’d parted on such a good note, Raven remembered. Probably she should have known that it couldn’t stay like that, that the ground wouldn’t let her have something decent for long. Maybe she’d been the one to jinx it, since she’d thought about Murphy while he was away; hoped that he’d come back in one piece, him and Finn both. Probably she should have been more specific, since by the looks of things, neither one of them was really in one piece even if their bodies were physically intact. 

Raven reaches out to him, slowly, but Murphy still startles when her fingers graze his wrist. He lifts his head to look at her, his eyes wide and astonished. 

“Come in, Murphy.” 

She holds the tent flap open for him and it’s awkward at first, both of them unsure what to say. For her part she’s worried about scaring him off, and for him she’d guess he’s afraid of her reaction to whatever he has to tell her. Raven perches on the edge of her cot and before she can indicate that she wants him to sit next to her, Murphy sags down by her knees, mimicking the posture he’d had on that complicated day in her workshop before he left camp. She raises her hand and gently places it on his head and a shudder ripples through him, his forehead dropping to his bent knees. Letting her mind drift backwards to the memory of it, she glides her fingers through his hair once more, trailing over his neck and back up again, and slowly she can feel the tension seep out of both of them. 

“I’m sorry,” Murphy mumbles, head still against his knees. “I tried to stop him. But it wasn’t good enough.”

Clarke had told her as much, though of course she, Octavia and Bellamy had only caught the tail end of it. But all three of them had confirmed that Murphy had been frantic trying to contain Finn. And that a few of the survivors had backed that up too. 

“I know,” she soothes, and despite the seriousness of the moment she’s oddly calm, her voice resolute. “I know you tried. I don’t understand what Finn did but I know it’s not your fault.”

They stay like that for a long time, their quiet breathing slowly synching together, her leg aching and her hand tiring of the repetitive motion. Despite the discomfort, she doesn’t quit since the movements appease the jagged fragments that splintered inside her since she first heard what Finn did. She’s certain it’s helping Murphy too, his body language so much more relaxed than before. Eventually Murphy raises his arm and lays his own hand over hers, trapping her fingers against the back of his neck. 

“Can I sleep here? I’ll crash on the floor - I promise I won’t get in your way.” He turns to look up at her, and there’s no hiding the despair in his eyes from her as he swallows hard before admitting something difficult. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I don’t either,” she confesses, and she wonders if there was a part of her that knew this would happen as soon as she spotted him outside her tent, since her admission comes so easily and without thinking it through. Maybe she’ll let herself reflect on that later, but for now his comment about sleeping on the floor needs her attention. It feels like so long ago, but the memory of Bellamy referring to Murphy as her ‘loyal puppy’ is one she knows that many in Arkadia believe to be true. It was wrong then and it’s wrong now too. Murphy isn’t an animal and she doesn’t want even the slightest of comparison to be gossiped about. 

She slips her hand out from under his, slow so he won’t get skittish again. “If you stay here with me, it won’t be on the floor. We can both manage on the bed.”

For a moment he looks like he’ll argue with her, but her determination must be apparent because he ends up not saying anything, just chews at his bottom lip and picks at the edge of his shirt in silence. 

“You turn around while I get some sleeping clothes on,” Raven directs him, “and then I’ll get into the bed. I’ll keep my back to you then and if you have something to put on in that pack of yours over there, you can change yourself. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Murphy mutters, and not long after she finishes dressing and lays down, she can sense him flipping back the blankets, can feel the dip in the mattress as he sits tentatively on the surface. The cot is practically in the middle of the small tent, her supplies and tools and meager belongings piled around the walls to provide the slightest bit of extra insulation from the wind, but the bed is small, and the two of them aren’t going to be able to avoid each other even if they try. 

She suppresses a small sigh, not wanting him to hear it. They spent many hours together, before. Before Murphy almost excitedly left camp in hopes of their group rescuing the delinquents trapped in Mount Weather. Things obviously didn’t go according to plan, and now here they are. It might take some time for them both to regain that same level of familiarity, but she hasn’t forgotten their back-and-forth or the way it worked for both of them. 

“Lay down and get under the covers, Murphy,” Raven instructs, strict and demanding. “I’m getting cold. We can each rest on our side, back to back.” 

He hurries to obey her, his sock clad feet nudging hers before his back bumps up behind her. The weight of him feels solid, reassuring, and she tries to focus on that instead of the fleeting images her brain feeds her - images of dead and bloody bodies discarded on the dirt of the forest, the sound of gunshots echoing through the trees along with screams. 

It’s a relief when his voice, weary and scarred as it is, reaches her ears. 

“Thanks,” he whispers into the dark, offering a lifeline even if he doesn’t know it. 

“You’re welcome,” she whispers back, hoping he really knows she means thank you as well. 

* * *

Her reprieve doesn’t last long, at least as far as she can tell, when she wakes up with a scream caught in her throat, her face wet with tears and her body shaking in fear. Murphy’s leaning over her, his forehead creased with worry and his hand cupping her shoulder as he gently tries to force her awake. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he mutters. “Only a bad dream. You’re safe, you’re alright.”

It’s far from the first nightmare she’s had, but now there’s new terrors in her psyche - about Finn, about his victims, about the ramifications of his actions sure to come - even her own fear that she won’t be able to save him from himself now that he’s stepped so far over the line. She doesn’t want to put it into words though, couldn’t probably even if she did want to, but as she meets Murphy’s eyes in the dark shadows, she has the peculiar feeling that he already understands. 

Wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks, she watches as Murphy moves to his side to face her, no longer hovering over her. She catches her breath and then rolls towards him, scant inches of space between them in the limited confines of the mattress. Unexpectedly, Murphy’s hand reaches towards her, his touch feather-light as his fingers tentatively graze hers. 

“Okay?” he asks, too uncertain still for her liking. 

She nods instead of answering, rotating her wrist so her hand is palm up to further her permission. Their fingers weave together and even after she closes her eyes she can feel him watching her with concern. The awareness has her feeling safe instead of vulnerable, and she’s glad he came to find her tonight, even if she wouldn’t want to admit to any weakness. It’s likely Murphy knows it though; the simple fact that she’s allowing him to take charge and console her making it obvious. 

Raven pushes her face deeper into the pillow. She’ll be strong again when the sun rises. For the rest of the night she needs the reassuring squeeze of Murphy’s fingers tangled with hers. 

* * *

Most of the nights thereafter are much the same. She hadn’t sent him away that first night he came back, and not any of the nights since either. All of Raven’s doubts and insecurities and fears come out in the desolate darkness as she falls apart - her emotions take the form of sobs and tears or nightmares or hoarse frightened shouts or everything combined, and Murphy takes care of her through all of it. He wakes her and holds her close and gives her hushed words of reassurance in the bleak hours until daybreak, until she eventually falls into a fitful sleep, exhausted as he slowly rubs her back to calm her. 

In exchange, she keeps it together during the day for him, keeping him out of trouble and giving him things to do to occupy his hands and mind; allows him to let her take control of most things in his daily life so that he can breathe easier. _Be_ easier. 

Bellamy had asked her about it when it became obvious she and Murphy were sharing a tent - obvious to everyone except Finn, maybe. Whenever she tried to talk to Finn he seemed so...distracted. Raven had just shrugged at Bellamy’s questions. It wasn’t easy to put into words, but ultimately Murphy needed her. She knew it and so did he. And in a way, she needed him too. It was strange as hell, she was well aware - everyone thought she was having sex with the person who shot her, the guy who was with Finn when he lost control and killed all those defenseless people in that village deep in the forest. 

It _was_ strange as hell, no doubt about it. 

But somehow it worked for them. 

Having Murphy to keep her company, both during the day when for all intents and purposes he’d do anything she asked of him, and then having him to sleep with at night, how that would help to ease the traumatic nightmares whenever they came...It just helped them both, no matter how strange it seemed. 

She didn’t see the point in telling everyone that their assumptions were wrong, that she and Murphy weren’t having sex. She’d had enough of people knowing the details of her personal life ever since she’d landed on this beautiful and horrible planet. Let them talk if they wanted. She and Murphy knew the truth. Finn seemed so out of it that the concern probably never even registered with him. 

But then Finn dies. 

And she does something terrible to Murphy in trying to prevent it.

And Raven gets accused of poisoning the Commander of the Grounders, resulting in her own torture. 

And the nightmares get worse. 

* * *

_One month later_

  
  


The nightmares have only gotten bloodier since Finn died right in front of all of Arkardia, as she stood helpless to do anything to save him. It’s constant, the awful scenes flickering through her head every time she closes her eyes. But she has more to add to it now as well - heaps of guilt, not only for not anticipating that Finn was going to turn himself in but also for what she did to Murphy in her senseless panic to save Finn’s life. 

He doesn’t punish her for it, inexplicably seems to shrug it off as he continues to stay at her side during the day and sleep next to her at night. She’s apologized hundreds of times, in more ways than she even thought she knew how to do. Each time Murphy tells her that he understands, that he’s not holding it against her, but she can’t seem to move past it, his face prominent in her nightmares as the realization of what she’s saying wash over him in those tense moments in the Dropship, Bellamy and Clarke looking on in scandalized disappointment. He tells her that if she can move past what he did to her, then he can forgive the hateful but simple words that she hurled at him, but she feels like he’s being too easy on her and she says so, multiple times when they’re alone. Eventually the truth about how Finn sacrificed himself for her in the Ark spills out, how she let him convince her to keep quiet since she was already eighteen and he wasn’t, and Murphy listens intently as she tries to make him understand just why she was so desperate to save Finn. Why she would have exchanged anyone and anything - even herself - in his place if she could have. 

Murphy only nods, tells her he remembers what it was like to have family, what he was willing to do for them, what his father had been willing to risk for _him_. And then she knows that he does understand, and she can only be grateful that he didn’t let her reckless and callous behavior ruin the friendship they’ve worked so hard to establish. 

The relief of Murphy’s exoneration doesn’t stop the nightmares though. 

* * *

“No, no! Please stop! _Please_!” She wakes up gasping for breath, her heart hammering so hard beneath her chest she fears she might actually pass out, but then Murphy’s arms wrap around her and she clings to him desperately, realizing she’s in their tent, in their shared bed and not tied to a pole being sliced open while she screams in agony. 

She’s so tired, beyond exhausted. The torment just won’t stop and she’s even talked to Abby about it, hoping for something that might help her get some sleep. But her efforts have all been without much success, and often end up with Abby lecturing her about eating so little, her already slight frame getting thinner as the lack of sleep takes its toll on her appetite too. 

“Shh, I know,” Murphy mumbles, his hand sliding down her hair again and again as he tries to soothe her for what feels like the thousandth time lately. She can’t take it anymore, can’t continue on this endless loop of anguish and she pulls back from him, staring at his face in the gloomy shadows. 

“Make me feel _something else_ ,” Raven pleads, past caring if she’s doing anything smart or that she might regret later. She just needs to experience something other than grief and misery, even if it’s only for a little while. 

Murphy’s blue eyes are intense on hers and his head turns just a fraction to the side, as if he’s going to shake it; as if he’ll say no to her and it’s almost more than she can bear. He doesn’t though, only watches her for another moment with a gaze that seems to look deep inside her and then he lowers his chin, moves in close and their mouths touch for the first time. 

The second she feels his lips on hers, she knows it’s exactly what she wants, exactly what she needs and there’s no pulling back for either of them as Raven gets lost in the kiss - gives herself over to it with abandon because for once she remembers what it feels like to be warm as Murphy’s lips match to the contours of hers. 

His arms reach around her back, holding her to him and she squirms closer, eager for the reprieve he’s giving her. She won’t regret anything they do, not now, not later. Not when she finally feels alive again after so much heartache. 

* * *

They’re wrapped around each other when she wakes up, and by the faint light filtering in through the walls of the tent, it’s too early to get dressed. It’s what she’s used to, opening her eyes to find that she and Murphy have cuddled against each other in the nights that have turned chilly, but this time is different. They’re naked, for one, and last night changed things between them. Having sex with Murphy would undoubtedly alter their dynamic, and she wasn’t sure if it would be in a good way or not. Even if she wasn’t feeling remorse over it, things couldn’t go back to exactly what they were. 

Maybe she should have spared a thought to what would come next when she so impulsively begged him to make her feel something scant hours ago. 

_Nothing to be done about it now_ , she thinks, choosing to snuggle deeper into Murphy’s side and close her eyes again. Whatever comes next, she’ll just have to find a way to navigate it. 

* * *

Murphy’s gone when she wakes up for the second time, but he’s pulled the flimsy chair in the tent close to the side of the bed, and on it he’s left a container of water and a plate that’s covered with a piece of cloth. Raven lifts the edges to peer under it, spotting an apple, a handful of berries and a scoop of the mush the kitchen workers call porridge. It’s still a little warm, so it can’t have been sitting there long. She sits up, her body sore in more than a few places, but it feels oddly good, like a bruise that’s finally beginning to heal. 

After she eats she gets dressed for the day, smoothing the blankets over the bed before she leaves the tent. The camp is bustling, everyone rushing around with various duties, but as usual her workspace tends to be quiet. Most people have learned to avoid her, she’s pretty sure, and the ones who do come around ask for what they need and then hurry on their way. Only a few people dare to linger, and today it amuses her to offer a little more kindness than her habit has been lately. Sinclair stops by to ask her to show one of the younger mechanics how to do a specific repair later that evening, and he seems surprised when she goes into friendlier detail when he asks how she is, rather than her typical response of ‘fine’ that she’s used to giving him. Maybe she’s been even more lifeless than she thought when the relief on his face is so blatant. 

Murphy joins her about an hour before lunch, and he doesn’t share what he’s been up to and she doesn’t ask. They fall into work together like the habit it’s becoming again, and after a few minutes, she can feel him look over at her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she says truthfully, after a moment of contemplation. 

“Alright,” Murphy answers, giving her a brief nod as he seems to consider her response. 

She can see that he takes a deep breath before he speaks again, as if he’s steeling himself for something. 

“I just need to know one thing,” he continues, “and then I’ll drop it. Do you regret it?”

Her head resolutely shakes as he finishes his question. Even before she says the words out loud, she knows they’re true - knew they were from the moment she felt his lips on hers. “No. I don’t regret it at all.”

If she wasn’t deliberately looking at him, she’d have missed the small grin that curves his lips up and then quickly disappears. But she does see it, and something inside her eases at the sight. 

  
  


* * *

They go on like before, with one major difference. Now they don’t start out back to back in the bed at night until Raven needs comforting, both of them politely ignoring the intimacy of the way they wake up cuddled together in the morning. Now they kiss and they touch and they taste and they move together in the shadows and Raven can’t explain it but somehow it’s an entirely different dynamic than they have in the sunlight. What works to keep them sane in front of others is different in private. In the darkness of their tent it’s only them, still giving each other something they each need. Just in a different way. 

* * *

“As part of the truce agreement, their Commander asks that we open our camp for trade - that we offer some of our knowledge and know-how in exchange for goods or in-kind tutorials. There’s going to be representatives from multiple clans that will be arriving any day now,” Marcus Kane explains to the people gathered together in the small room that they’ve been using for strategy sessions in the crashed remains of the Ark. 

Raven isn’t usually present for these kinds of meetings, but today Sinclair had asked her to come along, and her eyes dart to his after hearing Kane’s explanation. She doesn’t want to go anywhere near the Grounders, not after what happened with Finn. Not after what they did to her in that Trikru camp. 

It turns out she doesn’t have a choice though, not really. Not when Kane tells her that they are relying on her and her skills to help accrue much-needed food and provisions for the fast-approaching winter. Not when Abby catches her eye and she can’t look away from the plea in Abby’s gaze. Not when Sinclair smiles gently and squeezes her shoulder like he’s proud of her when she doesn’t immediately say no. 

* * *

“I have to help the Grounders with welding and irrigation systems for the next couple of weeks,” Raven informs Murphy as she lifts the flap to her tent, spotting him stretched out under the blankets on the narrow cot inside. Well, at this point it’s definitely _their_ tent rather than just hers, she mentally corrects herself, since he’s been sleeping in it with her ever since he came out of the woods and back into camp after Finn’s rampage. Sometimes it feels like ages ago that it all happened; other times she feels the loss of Finn is so fresh it could have only happened mere hours prior. 

“Do you want to, or have to?” Murphy asks, interrupting her thoughts, sliding over to make room for her as he pulls the covers back. 

He has a few candles lit for her since she told him she’d be at a meeting, so she blows them out after she ties the tent closed, feeling some of her stress fade now that she’s in the place she’s gradually coming to think of as home. It’s a mix of both of them, Murphy’s jacket hung up next to hers and another chair found and made theirs so they each have a place to sit at the small table in the corner, though that’s often piled high with salvaged parts Raven finds and thinks she’ll have a use for later. 

“Have to,” Raven sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed and unbuckling her brace before she leans down to unlace her boots. “Kane told it to everyone like a royal decree, but there’s really no way around it. A bunch of Grounders are coming here to make trades. If we don’t have things to teach them or trade with them, we won’t have enough food or warm clothing to get through the winter. So the brain of yours truly has been volunteered for the cause.”

Murphy rolls to his side as Raven leans back onto the bed, and he opens his arms to her without hesitation. She scoots closer, resting her head under his chin like she usually does. It’s early to sleep, but she’s tired, drained just at the idea of what’s to come, and she doesn’t even have the energy to wish she had changed out of her clothes, though Murphy’s already undoing her belt to make her more comfortable. 

“I’ll be with you,” he promises, “unless you don’t want me to be.”

“I do want you to be.”

She blindly reaches down for the blankets, tugging them up until they drape across her shoulder, thankful once again for the extra mattress Abby recently demanded she accept for the sake of her leg, hip and spine. The cot is narrow and tight with two of them in it, but it’s more comfortable than most now with the mattresses piled on top of each other, and she wonders what Finn would think when she nudges her bad thigh between Murphy’s healthy ones, allowing the weight of her leg to rest on him. She discovered the position was a good one soon after they’d started sleeping together, and Murphy never seemed to mind. 

She wonders what Finn would say to her, if he knew all of what she and Murphy were doing. They had never tried to hide it even in the beginning, not exactly. But when Finn had come back to camp after what he did, he hadn’t been himself. He seemed...diminished, like he wasn’t even fully present at times. Raven was positive he never knew that Murphy had come to her tent the same night they returned to camp together, and it was his death and her response to it that had been partly the reason she and Murphy had started having sex. Or maybe it wasn’t the reason, so much as it was actually the catalyst. 

Raven likes to think that out of anyone, he’d understand the most. Finn learned the lesson before she did, but now she understands him better too. Sometimes there’s just no stopping who you’re drawn to. 

* * *

They spend the next few days collecting the reeds and bamboo she’ll need to demonstrate to the Grounders how to create more sophisticated irrigation systems than they currently have, and their days once again resemble the time just after her surgery, when she was relearning how to walk with a cane and Murphy managed to activate some latent compassion gene deep within her in spite of her initial ambivalence. 

Everyone in camp is used to them now, their unusual dynamic no longer causing curious eyes to follow them around, though Murphy still gets into more than his share of scrapes. She steps in sometimes, mostly when it’s not in Murphy’s best interest to continue, but other incidents she shrugs off, knowing he needs the outlet that a physical fight will provide. Bellamy and Kane seem resigned to the fact that the quickest way to get Murphy to cooperate with anything is to have Raven ask him to do it, and she might take a little gleeful pleasure from it if it wasn’t also just as well-known that she herself was as easily influenced when Sinclair approached her for some task or request. 

She hopes that it’s only her who knows that Sinclair isn’t the only one she has a weakness for. 

They eat their meals together, share a workload as well as a bed, and Raven starts to wonder if she’ll be able to handle it if Murphy decides to leave camp again when they make the next attempt at infiltrating Mt. Weather. The thought makes her stomach clench. She knows it’ll be soon; that them cooperating with the Grounder instruction plays into Lexa’s willingness to assist them with the fight to come. Her head is spinning with a multitude of thoughts, like how she’ll worry and how her nightmares will undoubtedly get worse again while he’s gone, and it’s only when she tells herself that she’ll go too that her pulse starts to slow down again. And then the significance of that realization only speeds it up once more when she considers what exactly that choice means, not to want him to go without her. 

She has a few moments to ponder this monumental thought, and then the alarm signal rings out across the camp, causing her heart rate to jump for a completely different reason. The Grounder coalition has arrived. 

* * *

“No, go back and try again,” Raven patiently admonishes the member of Trishanakru, when they bring her a piece of hollow bamboo to inspect that isn’t smooth enough at the cut to get her approval. “I know it’s not always easy to tell, but you have to get the edges smooth and level enough so that the pieces will fit together tightly in the next step.”

She holds up a few sample cuts that lay on the table in front of her. “Look at these examples Murphy cut earlier. They’re exactly what we’re looking for. You want to ensure that the water will flow from one section to the next in either direction, and that won’t happen if the joints don’t match up.”

Raven’s been teaching this particular group for three days now, Murphy by her side, and much as she tells herself she’s got everything under control, she wonders if that’s really the truth of if when he catches her eye and grins arrogantly at the praise she’s given him. The only reason she’s got as much control over herself as she does is because he’s there with her, continuing to allow her to boss him around even in front of these strangers, these people that neither of them feel at ease with. 

The night they all arrived at Arkadia, she and Murphy had been about to drift off when she’d told him that she didn’t expect it, that he didn’t need to accompany her every day she had to fulfill the expectations Kane had set for her. Murphy had teasingly bitten her shoulder, almost laughing when she’d let out a tiny yelp of surprise, and he’d told her it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. She knew he was deliberately making light of it, glossing over the fact that they each had plenty of reasons to hate the Grounders they’d be working with. And then he’d kissed her to shut her up when she started to mention how she didn’t expect him to listen to her either, not when things would be so different when they were around. She let him distract her even though he didn’t give her an answer, all too willing to drop the subject if it meant he’d continue kissing her like that, but a part of her knew they were both going to need their routine even if it did create some questions. 

And it seemed like Murphy knew it too, since not much has changed about their dynamic even in the presence of the Grounder groups. Ever since the two of them started sleeping in the same bed, their casual touches as they worked together only increased as they became more and more used to being physically near each other, and both of them were now well versed with how a few simple and discreet touches could serve to calm them down in times of stress. 

So it’s only natural when Raven slips closer to Murphy later that afternoon, her side pressed against his as the group crowds around the worktable while she attempts to explain Manning’s Equation to calculate flow variables when it comes to sloping drain pipes. 

And when Murphy’s index finger begins to stroke along the inside of her wrist, neither of them is aware as a few pairs of prying eyes take notice. 

* * *

“Nope, make a better choice,” Raven insists, only just holding back from rolling her eyes at the paltry scoop of salad greens Murphy’s attempting to put on his plate as they go through the dinner line together. He’s often only interested in the meat they serve up, occasionally the fruit if it’s sweet, so as far as she’s concerned it’s his own fault that she has to put her foot down when it comes to his eating habits. 

She can practically feel the annoyance radiating off him but he listens just as she expects him to, putting a larger serving onto his plate even as she knows he’s going to chew every bite cursing her in his head. She can live with that. 

They continue through the rest of the food line and Raven observes that some of the Grounders in their tutorial group are nearby, so she tries her best to offer a polite nod. A smile feels like more than she can muster, but at least her face can be neutral instead of resentful. So far no one has really set her off, though she expects that may not last as the groups rotate around to learn as many things from each other as possible while they’re all together in Arkadia. 

Besides being responsible for teaching a skill herself, she’s also required to learn something, so she chose some kind of combination weaving and knitting offering, hoping to translate that into gloves and warm hats as the weather chills. Murphy had looked at her expectantly when Bellamy asked him what tutorial he wanted to take, and she supposes he’s content enough with her choice of animal skinning for him. She did think Murphy would take to it, but she also admitted to him that she had an ulterior motive. She had liked the way his eyes sparkled with humor when she confessed she was hoping for warmer blankets like the fur she knew the Azgeda warriors used. 

They carry their trays over towards Octavia and Bellamy, and Raven glances around for Clarke’s blonde head but doesn’t see her. Things aren’t as tense between them anymore, though it feels like lately Clarke is always busy with something related to Lexa, the Grounder Commander. She thinks about how she could ask Bellamy about it without getting him upset, but then Murphy nudges her thigh with his knee under the table until she looks over at him. 

“Happy now?” he asks her, shoving a too-large bite of green leaves into his mouth before starting to chew on them obnoxiously loud. 

“Thrilled,” she replies drily, doing her best to keep her expression impassive even though part of her wants to grin at his antics. 

* * *

On the fifth day of the Grounder occupation - as Raven calls it privately when it’s just her and Murphy; although fine, sometimes it slips out with Sinclair too - Murphy gets into a fight with one of them. She’s not really surprised about it when Mel from Factory Station comes running to tell her the news, but she does feel a sense of disquiet when she hears it’s with a man from Trikru. It’s likely Murphy knows the Grounder then, and not in a good way. She follows Mel as quickly as she can, relieved to see there’s only a small group looking on as the punches are thrown fast and frenzied. 

Murphy’s not a bad scrapper; god knows he’s had plenty of experience since he can’t seem to keep that mouth of his shut, and he’s never able to stay out of trouble for long. The Trikru member he’s fighting is lean too, but he’s at least a head taller than Murphy, and Raven debates on what to do even though from what she can see, Murphy is holding his own. If it were up to her, she might let him keep going, certain Murphy has reason to hold a grudge. But the knowledge sits heavy on her shoulders that Sinclair and Abby and Kane all want this truce to hold, and besides that, Raven can’t let the possibility of this fight endangering things to be something anyone can pin on Murphy. She steps closer, unnoticed by the two combatants as she waits for an opportunity to disrupt the brawl. It comes when Murphy lands a particularly hard blow to the other man’s midsection and he stumbles backwards, out of breath and gasping. 

Raven darts in between them before Murphy can get too close again, but she keeps her back to Murphy and addresses the other man instead, holding her arm up to hold him off as he struggles to stand straight, clumsily advancing towards Murphy once more. 

“Don’t you even _think_ about laying a finger on him,” she warns, her voice tempered steel. “If it’s a fight you want, you can take it up with me.”

There are a few astonished noises from the modest onlookers, the buzz of conversation increasing as Raven refuses to back down. She can sense Murphy’s eyes burning into the back of her head, almost willing her to turn around and face him but she doesn’t need to look at him to know he’s incredibly displeased with her, and besides, the man in front of her has a glare of his own aimed in her direction, albeit mostly with just one eye since the other one is already swollen and puffy and a sign that Murphy has been busy.  
  


“Ai na frag yu op!” _(I will kill you!)_

Raven isn’t sure of the exact translation, but she’s smart enough to understand the gist of it. He’s threatening her, that much seems clear. 

“Well, I’m right here,” she says, not moving an inch, even as the man approaches and she feels Murphy’s tight grip wrap around her elbow like he’s preparing to wrench her away from danger. 

“Hod op!” _(Stop!)_

The loud yell comes from the crowd, from a man Raven recognizes. He’s with Sangedakru, in the current group that she’s teaching, and she’s not sure of the specifics but he seems to hold some kind of rank with most of the others, since they often defer to him and let him interrupt whenever he chooses. It’s the same now, the cluster of people moving out of his way as he stalks over to the Trikru man and in hushed tones says a few instructions in Trigedasleng that Raven can’t begin to guess. Her attention is taken from the taut conversation when Murphy drags her a few feet away, his hand still clenched around her elbow as she gets her first look at his outraged expression. 

“What the fuck, Raven! What the hell do you think you were doing, getting in the middle of a fight like that?” 

He’s not yelling but his words are aggressive and rigid and she knows just by hearing them that he’s too upset to understand why she did it. She runs her eyes all over him, looking for injuries both obvious and hidden, and other than a bit of blood trickling from his nose, it looks like he’s managed to escape any real harm. 

Reaching into her pocket, Raven pulls out a scrap of cloth she usually uses to wipe her hands with after messy repairs. It’s not the most sanitary thing in the world, but she doesn’t want any others to see blood evidence on Murphy if they can avoid it, and she reaches up to hold his jaw in one hand, tilting his chin down towards her as she gently begins to clean him up. He lets her do it, though she feels the tension under her fingers as he literally grits his teeth in annoyance, his blue eyes alight with ire. 

Over his shoulder she can see that the Sangedakru man has sent the Trikru fighter away, dispersing the rest of the Grounder spectators as well. He’s watching Raven and Murphy carefully, close enough to eavesdrop, uncaring that he’s being blatant about it, and it makes Raven wonder at his intentions. 

“I am _really_ pissed at you,” Murphy warns her, unaware of her concerns, and his growled comment pulls her attention back to him. 

“I know.” She makes one more swipe down his face, satisfied that she’s erased the last of the blood. Squishing the rag up in her fist, she shoves it back into her pocket, her fingers trailing down Murphy’s cheek in a brief caress before coming to rest on his arm. “Let’s go for a walk. I need some exercise.”

Murphy honest-to-god scowls at her and she can tell he’s torn between being angry with her as well as exasperated, but nonetheless his feet follow in the direction she leads him in. They get a few paces away before Raven gives in to the urge to look over her shoulder. The Sangedakru man nods solemnly at her, still watching their every move. 

* * *

Things between her and Murphy are tense for the remainder of the day because they don’t really get a chance to talk privately, surrounded as they are by people and their busy schedules. Dinner feels awkward even though he carries her tray like always and Bellamy tells amusing anecdotes about the experiences he’s been having in camp trying to break up the numerous fights that have been breaking out - mostly between the Grounder clans themselves. No one seems to know about Murphy’s fight, and Raven plans to keep it that way as she pushes her heel into Murphy’s boot under the table, slowly shaking her head at him to make sure he doesn’t mention it either. 

They walk back to their tent together at the end of the night in silence, taking off their coats and boots without their normal conversation, and it’s only when Raven is seated on the good chair, the one that doesn’t rock back and forth, trying to comb out some tangles in her hair that Murphy finally approaches. He crouches down in front of her, his expression more bewildered than angry now. 

“What the hell were you thinking, doing that? You could have gotten hurt.”

“I could say the same to you!” Maybe _she’s_ still upset, since her tone is definitely not calm or rational. “Why did _you_ get in that fight?”

Murphy shakes his head, at himself or her, she’s not sure. 

“That guy was one of the people who tortured me in the Trikru camp before they sent me back to the Dropship with that sickness. I was trying to ignore him but he recognized me too. Said a few things I couldn’t shrug off. Felt like a fight was unavoidable after that, but I don’t think it was going for too long before someone ratted me out and you showed up.”

He says the last comment so resignedly that she has to bite back a grin in spite of her frustration. “I thought it might be something like that, which is why I didn’t interrupt things right away after I saw what was going on.”

“But then you did step in. Why are you always so willing to throw down?” he chastises. “Even though you look like you could be knocked over by a strong wind. What makes you think you could hold your own in a fight like today?”

“You aren't always bigger than the people you fight,” she accuses him. “So what makes _you_ think you can win?”

“I know I’m gonna fight dirty, that’s why. And I know how to take a few punches along the way.”

“Well I’m stubborn,” she insists, not really having any other way to explain it. 

“No fucking kidding,” Murphy mumbles under his breath, and he slumps forward, rubbing his forehead like she’s given him a headache. 

It dawns on her that she may have worried him as much as he worried her today, and the realization has her making a better effort to explain herself. 

“I couldn’t let it continue even if you had good reason. This truce is necessary even if we don’t like it, and I don’t want someone trying to pin any blame on you if it falls apart.”

“So what were you gonna do, then,” Murphy looks up at her. “Try to take the blame onto yourself?”

“Well, yeah,” she explains, unsure why he sounds so surprised. “They can’t really do anything to me, you know. They need the skills I have, for one. And for two, Sinclair would never let them punish me too much. Maybe Abby either, now that I think about it. I could probably be a lot bitchier around here if I wanted, honestly.”

The look on his face is hard for her to decipher, but there’s no mistaking the fervent kiss he leans forward to give her, his hands winding into her hair as he tugs her close. His kiss is full of arousal, that’s easy to pick up on, but there’s something else in it too, something different. Raven opens her mouth to him, yielding to whatever it is. But no matter how much she chases after it, needing to know exactly what it means, it remains just out of her reach.

* * *

The next morning she sends Murphy out early to cut down more reeds. Bellamy goes with him, saying he needs some time away from camp, and she can only hope no gossip has reached Bellamy’s ears about the fight. She eats breakfast with Sinclair before he leaves her to finish on her own, and she’s almost ready to walk over to her weaving instruction when the man from Sangedakru approaches her. 

“Your slave could use a few lessons of discipline.”

Raven looks skeptically at the man, relieved to note that there are still plenty of people gathered around should she run into trouble. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am talking about the slave you call Murphy. He is too free with his insubordination. You must put an end to that if you wish to fully control him.”

“Murphy is not a slave!” Raven exclaims, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the allegation. “And you’ve got it wrong - I have no wish to fully control him.”

“I do not understand. I have been watching you both, and you clearly are his master. If you like, I can whip him for you, teach him some respect. Or perhaps you will sell him to me. I like that he does not turn away from a fight, and you have taught him well with the irrigation pipes. Sangedakru needs this knowledge.” He quickly pulls a money bag off of his belt. “I have coin to offer you. Let us negotiate.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Raven glares venomously at him, pushing back from the table as she gets to her feet, her outrage building. “Murphy is not _anyone’s_ slave. Not mine, and definitely never _yours_. I told that Trikru man not to lay a finger on him, and I’m telling you now too. Stay away from him, or you won’t like what I do about it.”

She pivots away from him after one last hostile glance, too on edge to go directly to her lesson now. Knitting is going to have to wait until she loses the urge to hit someone. 

* * *

Bellamy comes to find her later, looking bemused as well as extremely tired. And maybe a little annoyed, since she’s sitting outside the fence, which isn’t supposed to be turned off in any of the sections. But she’s not a genius for nothing. 

“I don’t know where to start,” Bellamy begins, easing himself down onto the grass beside her. 

“The beginning is always a good place,” Raven sighs, already pretty sure she doesn’t want to hear what he has to say. 

“How about I start with the fact that I’ve just spent a few hours of my day trying to explain to a group of Grounders who believe in slavery that Skaikru, in fact, does _not_ support this practice, and that despite what they think they’ve seen, we currently have no slaves in Arkadia. No masters either. Or I could talk about how before that, I had to listen to Kane rant about some important Sangedakru man who we surely do _not_ want to offend, and how said man was already offended because he made a legitimate offer to purchase a slave here, only to be threatened in return. And maybe I should mention that it turns out it was _you_ who threatened him.”

Bellamy bumps her shoulder with his. “Any of this sounding familiar?”

“Rings a vague bell, I guess.”

“How about the part where Murphy started a fight?”

Raven’s head whips around in dismay. “He did not start it! That Trikru man instigated the whole thing, taunting Murphy about being there when he was tortured. Murphy was only defending himself-”

“Okay, okay,” Bellamy grins, interrupting her and holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry. Not many people know about the fight at all, and I only heard about it because I was stuck talking to the Sangedakru VIP. Murphy’s not going to be in any trouble over it, so you don’t have to try and take my head off.”

“You could’ve said that part first,” Raven mutters, only slightly appeased. 

“Admit it, you two have an... _unusual_ relationship,” Bellamy replies. “It’s really no wonder some slavers thought they’d found a new source of labor when they came here. I mean, neither of you can hide the fact that Murphy pretty much does whatever you ask him.”

“So what?” Raven asks. “It’s not really that different from Kane telling you to do something and you getting right on it. Or from Sinclair being my boss. Abby tells Jackson what to do in the infirmary all the time, and no one questions that. I know people look at me and Murphy differently because they don’t understand, and that’s fine. No one needs to understand except us anyway.” She looks out over the trees at the edge of the forest before eventually turning back to Bellamy once more. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I forgot a few of the clans keep slaves, or maybe I blocked it out because it’s so awful. I thought we might get some questions or scandalized looks while the Grounders were here - not an offer to purchase Murphy.”

“Fair points, and for what it’s worth, I think Kane understands that perspective because he was shocked by it too. Or maybe it was because he couldn’t imagine anyone actually _offering_ to buy Murphy, of all people.” Bellamy only laughs harder when Raven shoves an elbow into his side. 

“Kane actually suggested we keep you and Murphy apart for the rest of the time the Grounders are here - no, don’t curse at me, it’s not a punishment! He thinks that if the Grounders see Murphy as he usually is around everyone else, they’ll lose whatever interest they had pretty quickly. Once they realize you’re the only one he bothers to listen to, they’ll see he’s going to be a lot of trouble. Honestly I think it’s a great plan,” he chuckles.

“Oh, shut up,” Raven orders, but there’s not much intensity behind her rebuke. It’s not a bad plan, not that she’ll admit it. She’ll miss Murphy though, and she’s not looking forward to facing the Grounders she still has to teach without him. 

Bellamy gets to his feet, placing his hand on her shoulder before he walks away. “Don’t worry. You’ll still be sharing a tent. I know we don’t talk about it, but you’re not the only one with nightmares. Turn the fence back on when you come in.”

Raven watches him go, not all that surprised that he practically read her mind. Bellamy might protest, but she knows he likes Murphy too. 

* * *

For a change it’s Murphy who comes into the darkened tent late that night, with her already tucked tight under the blankets, trying to keep out the chill. 

“It’s too windy for candles,” she tells him, a second too late by the sound of it, since he’s already grumbling about banging his knee in the dark. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grunts, and she can hear his boots hitting the floor followed by a few articles of clothing. He’s quick about it, probably cold himself, which she becomes much too familiar with when his hands reach for her after he climbs into the cot. 

“Your hands are freezing!” she yelps, doing her best to scoot away from him to no avail. 

“And you’re _naked_ ,” he observes with delight, his hands eagerly roaming all over her, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. He slides closer, and before too long her chill is forgotten as she starts to feel feverish instead, his mouth hot along her neck as he speaks into her skin. “Staying away from you is going to suck.”

“It’s only during the day,” she murmurs, secretly charmed he said so as she runs her nails down his back. 

His lips trail down to her chest and she can barely think while he takes his time showering attention on her breasts, his lips and fingers inciting her passion until her hips buck up insistently against him as she grows more impatient. Murphy lifts his head to look at her, making her think he’s finally finished driving her mad, but to her frustration, he speaks instead, a playful note in his voice telling her he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. 

“At least no one will be around at dinner to force me to eat all that green crap you insist on.”

It takes a minute to sink in, and then she gasps at his mockery. “That’s for your own good, you rotten-”

“Ahh-ahh-ahh,” Murphy interrupts her, crawling back up her body to press a too-quick kiss to her lips. “I can’t be that rotten if some Grounder VIP offered to buy me. How much do you think you could have gotten? Would you have tried to increase the price or just accepted his first offer? You should’ve taken the money and run, you know.”

He’s teasing, but there’s something else there too, not unlike the day before when he kissed her. She couldn’t figure it out then but now she thinks she understands. He wants reassurance, to know that his feelings are returned and that she’s not going anywhere, not even when he might’ve messed up. It’s not much different from what she wants either, to keep him with her, to keep him safe while she figures out how much more might be building between them - might even already exist, really. So the words end up not being hard to find. 

“Murphy, I swear you _are_ a lot of trouble,” she agrees, though her actions contradict her words as she curves her foot around the back of his calf, pulling him as close as possible. “But I think we both know what we have is really working for us. I wouldn’t give that up no matter how much money he offered me. Face it, you’re going to be stuck eating green leaves for the rest of your life if I have anything to say about it.”

She likes the way his eyes soften as he looks down at her, and she likes the way he kisses her too, demanding but sweet, greedy but somehow also gentle. This time there’s another new characteristic to it but she doesn’t need to chase after it to learn its meaning. She already knows because she thinks it might be exactly the same thing that happens when she kisses him. It feels like love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you'll consider letting me know what you thought - I love comments & kudos! I won't promise that I'll be doing this long term, but if you'd like to support BLM, maybe I'll write a fic for you, too.
> 
> https://easilydistractedbyfanfic.tumblr.com/post/620392423062978560/accepting-murven-fic-prompts-for-a-cause


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